


No Direction

by flowercrownclem



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, Fluff, Harry's not very punk but Louis still likes him, M/M, One Shot, idk - Freeform, probably, straight edge, they're in a punk band and it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6280381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownclem/pseuds/flowercrownclem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles, known as Freddie Menace onstage, plays in the punk band No Direction and is low key in love with the guitar player, Louis. They play their first show then go home to watch cartoons and learn that Harry isn't as punk rock as he pretends to be.</p><p>*I remembered that Louis' fake kid is named Freddie like halfway through writing this and at that point I didn't want to change it, but Harry's stage name is a reference to Freddie Mercury, not that whole thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Direction

“We are not here to entertain you,” Harry Styles, or Freddie Menace as he was known on stage, sneered into his microphone. Shouts and jeers came from the audience and he raised two fingers back at them, grinning evilly. “This next one’s for the lovers out there!”

The band broke into a fast paced, almost unrecognisable cover of “Jet Boy Jet Girl,” which Harry spent the most part of grinding suggestively against the guitar player, Louis. Louis consequently missed nearly every chord change, but because the music was so loud and distorted it went unnoticed. By the end of the song the crowd was whipped into a frenzy of slamming and pogoing, losing themselves in the nearly awful music. 

“Once again, we are No Direction,” Harry bellowed into his mic once the last notes of the song where fizzling out through the amps. “If you liked us come say hi and if you didn’t then come by anyway so we can tell you why you’re wrong.”

The PA was shut off and suddenly he was no longer Freddie Manace, the no-fucks-to-give punk rocker, but an excited teenager. He ran to Louis who put his guitar down just in time to catch the taller boy in his arms.

“That was so fun!” Harry exclaimed brightly.

“C’mon, ‘Freddie,’” Louis laughed, “Get off of me or you’ll ruin your image.”

“What image? You really think I have an image?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

“Hey, mate, good show,” a boy cut in, patting Harry on the back as he passed.

“Thanks!” Harry replied before turning back to Louis. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I heard someone brought some pot, I’m sure we could score some...”

“Lou!” Harry admonished. “You can’t! I told you! What kind of band are we?”

Louis mumbled incoherently under his breath.

“What was that?" Harry asked, feining sincerity. "I don't think I quite caught-”

“Straight edge!” Louis said louder. “We’re fucking straight edge.”

“That’s right,” Harry said happily, holding up an arm to show off a tattoo and reading, “‘You booze you lose’!”

It was at that moment that Niall, the bassist, came running up with a bottle of beer in each hand, screaming “Free booze for the band!”

“Niall!” Harry complained, “We’re supposed to be straight edge!”

“Hey, it’s ‘Nails’ to you tonight,” Niall laughed, taking a swig of beer and shaking out his bleached white hair as he ran away.

“Leave him,” Louis smiled fondly. “The hangover he’ll have tomorrow’ll be punishment enough.”

“I guess,” Harry sighed. “Do you need any help with that?”

He knelt down next to Louis who was fitting his secondhand guitar into its worn, sticker-covered case.

“Nah, I’ve just about got it now,” Louis smiled easily, doing up the knobs that kept the case shut.

“You did really good tonight,” Harry told him softly.

“Thanks,” Louis grinned. “You were quite captivating- especially during that Stooges number.”

Louis laughed and Harry shrugged sheepishly, remembering his own drop to the floor where he had crawled on his knees to sing at Louis’ feet. 

“Worked with the song,” he mumbled shyly.

“‘m not complaining,” Louis teased.

“If Louis’ all set, could I get some help with my kit?” Liam called from where he was crouched behind his drums.

“‘M staying away from your kit, mate,” Louis laughed, standing and swinging his guitar case across his back.

“C’mon, guys,” Liam whined. “Drums are heavy.”

“Shoulda picked a different instrument, Lima Bean,” Louis shrugged, grabbing Harry by the arm before he could offer to help.

“I told you guys I didn’t want to use that name,” Liam grumbled under his breath, grabbing the high-hat roughly.

“Shouldn’t we help him?” Harry asked as Louis pulled him through the club towards the exit.

“I thought you wanted to help  _ me _ ?” Louis countered with a smirk.

“I thought you didn’t  _ need _ any help,” Harry replied, matching his expression.

“I thought I might’ve remembered what an absolute  _ menace _ you are.”

“I thought you would’ve when it’s right in my  _ name _ ,” Harry let out a barking laugh. Louis shook his head fondly.

“C’mon, Menace,” Louis hitched the strap of his case further up and slung his other arm over Harry’s shoulders, pulling him across the darkened street.

Soon enough they were sprawled across the couch in Louis’ family’s house, his parents and siblings asleep upstairs. Lit only by the light coming from the telly, Harry was curled around a bowl of some sugary American brand of cereal. Rather than watch the old children’s cartoon that his bandmate was fixated on, Louis was focused on the boy across from him.

“What’re you smiling at?” Harry asked around a mouthful of cereal, not looking away from the screen.

“Nothing,” Louis shook himself slightly. “Just thinking how less than an hour ago you were shouting all kinds of vulgar nonsense, practically humping my leg, and now here you are: Eating cereal and watching kid’s shows. What would the blokes at the club say if they saw Freddie Menace like this?”

“But they don’t,” Harry told him simply, setting down his spoon and lifting what looked to be one of Louis’ sisters’ pink plastic bowls to his lips to drink the milk.

“Hm?” Louis tilted his head, watching the other boy curiously.

“They don’t see me like this. ‘S only you, Lou.” Harry grinned brightly around the bowl and Louis felt butterflies rise in his stomach.

“Well, good,” he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and turning on the couch to fully face the other boy. “I wouldn’t want to have to get into all kinds of fights defending your weak arse from all of them when they found out the truth.”

“Aw,” Harry cooed. “You’d defend me?”

“If I had to,” Louis shrugged. “You’d be absolutely useless and we’d have to find a new frontman.”

“Eh,” Harry grinned, “those’re a dime-a-dozen, anyway.”

“You’re not,” Louis told him, suddenly sincere.

“You think so?” Harry asked, his grin turning to a shy smile.

“Mhm,” Louis nodded. 

“Lou?” Harry asked quietly.

“Mhm?”

“Do you really think we’re any good?”

“Of course not,” Louis suddenly laughed. “We’re bloody terrible!”

“You were okay,” Harry argued.

“Haz, I only know three chords.”

“So?”

“Only two of those were used in any of the songs we played.”

“I thought it sounded nice,” Harry told him.

“Well, as long as I’ve got your approval,” Louis grinned languidly, “I must be the next Hendrix.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed, snuggling down into the couch.

“You’ll have to get a haircut soon,” Louis mused, blinking sleepily.

“Whadduya mean?” Harry asked, frowning.

“‘Snot very punk, ya know?” Louis’ head lulled to the side, resting against the back of the couch, “The long hair and all- Ya look like a hippie. There’s no punks with long hair.”

“Of course there are,” Harry scoffed indignantly. “Iggy Pop’s got long hair! So do all the Ramones! Joey Ramone’s got longer hair than me, I bet. And you know, this whole idea of doing stuff to be punk is so stupid because the whole point is to be different and be yourself and what’s even the point if everyone’s the same, and... Lou? Are you falling asleep?”

“Hmm?” Louis mumbled, his eyes opening groggily. “No, no. ‘Was just listening. You were making all the... points...”

Louis’ eyes slid shut again and Harry listened to his breathing get deeper and deeper as sleep threatened to overtake him.

“Lou?” Harry whispered, gently crawling across the couch on his knees until he was nose-to-nose with the sleepy blue-eyed boy.

“Mhmm?” Louis’ eyelids fluttered slightly.

“What’s got eight arms and kills it’s girlfriend?”

“Hmm?”

“Squid Vicious,” Harry grinned. “Get it, Lou? Like Sid Vicious, but... You’re asleep, aren’t you?”

Louis gave no response in movement or sound.

Harry leaned forward just far enough to place a soft kiss on the tip of Louis’ nose then shifted back on his heels. He reached out an arm until he found a soft blanket, shaking it out and draping it over Louis’ smaller frame. After flicking off the telly he maneuvered Louis’ sleeping form to one side of the couch so that he could tuck himself in beside him.

“Good night, Lou,” he smiled sleepily, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm securely around the other boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first real Larry fic and hopefully I did okay. If you liked it try and leave comments or kudos and I might write more of this eventually :)


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